


Dear Journal

by Calacious



Series: Going Postal, Loosely Connected Stories [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Journals, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: When she hears that Ron's had a troubling dream, Hermione quickly gets him a dream journal to write in. Ron is never going to let Hermione talk him into using anything like it again.





	Dear Journal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's July Fortnight Two, Postal Worker Day. Letter-fic on fan fic dot net.  
> This builds up to a relationship between Ron and Draco.

_ Dear Dream Journal, _

“Ugh, this is stupid,” Ron said, tossing his quill onto the floor of the common room. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Ron, it’s not stupid, just give it a try. It will help, I promise.”

Ron growled, but reached for the quill, and, bending over to hide the pages of the dream journal from Hermione’s keen eye, he started to write down the disturbing dream that he’d had the night before (the whole reason that Hermione had sent an owl post to Hogsmeade and ordered this journal in the first place). 

“Could you not watch?” Ron asked crossly. 

“Fine, I’ll go check on Harry’s homework,” Hermione said. Ron could hear the eye roll in her tone of voice and stuck his tongue out at her retreating back.

When it was clear that Hermione was engrossed in helping Harry rewrite his potions assignment, Ron let out the breath that he’d been holding and got up from the couch. He quickly made his way to his dorm room, grateful when he found it empty, and threw himself onto his bed, pulling the curtains around him. It would be best if he could write this out in privacy. There was no telling what the others would do to him if they learned about the contents of his dream. A full thirty hours later and he was still shuddering when it popped into his mind. 

Ron read the three words that he’d written into the  _ Number 1 Dream Journal for Dream Interpretation  _ that Hermione had bought for him, and shook his head. 

“Too formal. Too weird. Makes me sound like a girl,” he decided. 

_ Dear Dream Journal, _

_ Entry #1 _ , he wrote and then scratched that out as well. 

~~_ Dear Dream Journal, _ ~~

~~_ Entry #1 _ ~~

“This is stupid,” he said, rolling onto his back and holding the journal over his head. “How is writing out what I dreamed about supposed to help me?”

_ “Well,” _ the book said, startling Ron into dropping it and scuttling back toward the headboard. 

He pointed his wand at the book, which continued speaking as though Ron hadn’t dropped it, voice muffled by Ron’s comforter, “Writing out what you’ve dreamt can offer you insight into your unconscious mind, and often helps to clear your mind.”

“What the ever loving --”

“And, once you’ve written everything out, I will be able to help you sort through the contents of your dream,” the journal finished. 

Heart pounding like a madman in his chest, Ron poked the talking journal with his wand, and jumped back when the journal giggled, as though the wand had tickled it. 

_ Where had Hermione found this journal? Straight from Malfoy’s father’s dark library?  _ He quickly pushed aside those thoughts, not only did they bring up bad memories from when his sister had nearly been killed by a dark artefact that Malfoy’s father had planted on her, but it also brought back the dream that he’d had the other night, the very reason that he was attempting to sort through his thoughts via a dream journal in the first place. 

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just write my dream out on parchment after all,” Ron said, quickly picking the journal up and closing it before it could speak to him again. He tossed the journal to the end of the bed and stared at it for a solid minute, watching it warily, and relaxing when it said nothing else, but sat there mutely. 

“That’s the last time I let Hermione talk me into anything,” Ron said.

  
  



End file.
